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I sit down. I get out my headphones, my iPad, and a book. I always travel with two books, one new and my copy of Hamlet. It has become a tradition when I fly. The only difference today, I don’t know where I’m going. It’s not about the destination, but the journey. I will put on something slow, a track that builds toward something. And then it starts. We pull out of the gateway and move toward the runway. The movement can be jerky at times, but it’s usually smooth sailing. Then it happens. The plane gains speed, faster and faster. I close my eyes and I can feel the soft bumps from the imperfections in the asphalt. I can feel us gaining speed. You can start to feel the resistance against gravity as the plane fights to get in the air. That’s when I open my eyes. The split second before we lift off the ground. And then, we’re airborne. I take my headphones off again to listen to the flight attendant do their second speech. “Thanks for flying with us!” Oh, no problem. Absolutely my pleasure. Most days, at some point, I will look up into the sky and see a plane overhead. Without fail I wonder, where are they going? Have I ever been there? I wonder if anyone has an adventure planned. It makes me long for an airport. The urge to be up there can be unbearable at times. I get lost in my thoughts for who knows how long and then the drink cart rolls by. “Can I get a can of ginger ale please?” That’s very important phrasing. When they ask what you want to drink, if you’re going for a soda, you want the CAN of soda. You say can, they leave the can. You just say coke, you get the little Dixie cup of coke and that’s it. I have drink vouchers out of the wazoo, maybe I’ll get a Jack and Coke. They usually mix pretty good on the flights because the bottle is the bottle. No more, no less. So now I go back to my music. Maybe watch a movie on my iPad, maybe read. “Alas poor Yorick. I knew him, Horatio. A fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy.” But it’s all working toward an end, isn’t it? Some read, some flip through magazines, some spend the entire flight trying to control their children. All with one thought on their minds until those sweet words are spoken through the PA system. And then we break through the clouds. All at once the sight of the city rushes our senses. You may have seen the same city ten times before, but you are always going to notice something different. A building got a new paint job that you can probably see from space now. They did construction on this highway and the interchanges look a lot more efficient. I don’t recognize this place though. There is one thing that never changes no matter where you are. The lights. Oh, the lights. It’s like seeing the stars above, but below your feet. You’re never going to see a better replica of what it must be like to look down from Heaven. We get closer and closer to the ground. The lights are getting brighter. The area is becoming clearer. Cars can be seen as more than just dots moving along the streets. Buildings, fields, lakes, they all start to take shape. You’ve reached your destination and can finally see it up close and personal. Then the airport comes into view and another great part has arrived. That final moment, the plane almost hovering in place inches from the ground. I always hold my breath. Not out of worry, I have bounced off of my fair share of runways. Par for the course at this point. No, it’s the anticipation again. As if that last second could last a lifetime. Then…touchdown. Like you were never in the air at all. It doesn’t matter where you are, something new will come of it. Just remember to take it in and enjoy the adventure. Safe travels everyone.